


Push It Real Good

by Enochianess



Series: Personal Trainer AU [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Blow Jobs, Kissing, M/M, personal trainer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10373496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: Laurent hates working out. He always has and he always will. But Akielos Gym… it has its selling points. Well, one to be exact. A tall, dark, and handsome one.





	

Akielos Gym is deceivingly spacious considering how tiny it looks from the outside. It’s located on the far edge of the city, a tiny crook in the wall beside two hardware stores. But once you’ve walked down the long corridor to the reception desk and up the stairs, it opens into a wide, open space that must cover at least four or five of the downstairs properties. The rent must be obscene, but considering the pretty little penny that Laurent is fishing out for his membership, he figures the owners can easily afford it.

The thing is, Laurent hates the gym. He really does. But his new boss recommended the place and he keeps asking about whether Laurent has been yet, and so here he is: stood in the middle of the gym with one tall, dark, handsome, and obscenely muscular man who calls himself Damen. He came in last week to sign up and fill out a ridiculous number of forms, but today is his first day with his personal trainer. Apparently, everyone that signs up gets a personal trainer free for six weeks. It sounds great in theory, a good deal, but that means that Laurent actually has to show up to the gym and that when he’s there he actually has to exercise.

“Laurent, right?” Damen asks, stopping them in front of a row of treadmills. He’s holding a clipboard flicking through all the forms Laurent had signed the week before. Laurent tries not to fidget.

“Yes.”

“If you could tell me what you want to get most out of this, it’ll be easier for me to plan your sessions.”

“I don’t want to get anything out of it,” Laurent says with a sigh.

Damen looks down at him with a frown and an amused upturning of his lips. “Are you here under duress?”

“Something like that.”

“Then lets just do something simple today. Lets see where you’re at.” Damen smiles.

“Meaning?”

“Get on the treadmill. We’ll start you at a slow pace and gradually pick up some speed. If you ever need to stop and take a breather or you need a drink, let me know.”

Laurent rubs at the back of his neck and nods. He doesn’t want to do this. He really does not want to do this. “I better not fall off.”

“Have you never been on a treadmill before?”

“Do I look like I have?” Laurent says, indicating to himself with a downward sweep of his hand.

Damen smirks. “You look like you’re in good enough shape to me.”

Laurent clucks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Lets just get this over with. I want to get home before midnight.”

“Long day at work?” Damen asks as he presses a series of buttons on the treadmill.

“You could say that.”

“Hop on.”

Laurent steps up and shakes his hands out to get rid of the nervous energy building in his arms. Damen presses start and Laurent starts walking slowly to meet the pace of the machine. He looks up and meets his reflection; he looks skinny and pale and very out of place amongst the others in the gym. He looks a little to his side to watch Damen as he presses another button to get the machine to pick up speed. He’s gorgeous. His skin is dark and tanned like a nut, eyes a brown so deep they’re almost black, and a head full of dark curls that have been scraped back with a headband. His muscles are obscene. His dark red t-shirt stretches thinly across his toned chest, his arms bulging out of the tiny sleeves. His black shorts hold snugly to his thick thighs, and Laurent can only imagine how good his ass must look in them. Laurent bets Damen could throw him around a bit. He’d be lying if he said that his dick didn’t twitch in his shorts a little at the thought.

“Laurent?”

Laurent’s eyes snap from the mirror back to Damen at his side, his cheeks filling with warmth. “What?”

“Are you ready?”

Laurent stares at him blankly.

“You’ve finished your warm up. I’m going to start you running now. Okay?”

“If you must.”

Damen smiles and claps him on the back. Laurent takes a deep breath and runs.

* * *

"Oh please tell me this isn't Vanilla Ice?" Laurent begs as the song changes on the overhead speakers.

"Nikandros makes the playlist, take it up with him," Damen says.

They're doing bench presses today and Laurent is regretting every decision he's ever made in his life. He's pretty sure Damen is taking most of the weight from where he's guiding Laurent up and down, but it's still making his arms ache like hell. 

"I'm not built for this," Laurent huffs as Damen finally lets go and watches instead, holding his arms out slightly so he can help if Laurent needs it.

Laurent brings the bar down to his chest and kicks his legs out as he fights to push it back up. 

"Come on, you can do it."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. You're like a broken record."

"It's kind of my job to be encouraging," Damen says. Laurent can hear the smirk in his voice and it's beyond irritating. 

"Oh god no," Laurent complains.

"What?"

"MC Hammer?"

Damen laughs and takes the weight from Laurent. "You don't like it?"

"Believe it or not no," Laurent says as he sits up, wincing when he moves his arms from side to side. "I'm going to feel this tomorrow."

"That's good. It means you're getting stronger."

"I'd rather not spend the rest of my life aching."

"You can always quit."

Laurent scowls at him. Damen always knows exactly what to say to push Laurent's buttons. "You wish."

"Well, you're paying."

"Yes, a stupid amount."

Damen shrugs. "We've gotta pay the bills somehow."

Laurent doesn't mention that he doesn't mind paying when it comes with a view in the form of Damen. He could stare at that face forever, never mind his ridiculous body.  

* * *

Laurent is at the coffee machine when Torveld stops to speak to him. He's a good boss, he is, but he likes to talk and Laurent doesn't have time for that if he's going to get all his work done to a decent standard. He bites back a sigh and turns to look at him, a smile fixed on his face.

"How's everything going?" Torveld asks. "Settling in okay?"

Laurent doesn't know how many times he's been asked that. "Yes, thank you."

"Glad to hear it. I know it can be a little daunting, your first job after graduation. College doesn't really prepare you does it? I remember my first job very clearly. I wouldn't redo those couple of years even if you paid me."

Laurent gives a short laugh. "It's tough, but I'm handling it."

"Your last report was impressive. I can see a long career here for you if you keep it up."

"Thank you, sir," Laurent says.

"No need to call me sir, Laurent. Torveld is just fine."

Laurent nods.

"Say, have you had a chance to check out the gym I told you about yet?"

"I signed up a couple of weeks ago actually."

"And how do you like it? I think it's a great place."

"Yeah, I'm enjoying it so far," Laurent lies.

"Are you working with a trainer? I loved my free six weeks. I'm even thinking about paying to continue with someone."

"Yes I am."

"Who do you have?"

"Damen."

"Ah, good man, good man."

"Did he train you too?"

"No, I worked with Nikandros. Also a very good man."

"I haven't met him yet."

"He's difficult to miss. Smaller than Damen, but still a big guy if you know what I mean. Both handsome fellows too."

"I can't say I've noticed," Laurent lies, his cheeks warming a little just at the thought of Damen. He has got to get that under control.

* * *

"You're looking better and better." Damen encourages as Laurent passes the half hour mark. He's still going pretty slowly, but he doesn't think he's been able to run for this long since he was a child. He's secretly very pleased with himself, but he'd never admit it to anyone. 

"If you say so." 

Damen laughs. "Take the compliment."

"From you?"

Damen rolls his eyes, used to Laurent's snark by now. "Yes."

"I'd rather not."

"Ten more minutes and you can come off."

"Ten?" Laurent says, his voice just that little bit too loud to carry off his usual neutrality. 

"Come on, you can do that easily."

"I've never even run thirty minutes before, let alone forty," He pants.

"You can do it. I promise."

Laurent scowls at him in the mirror, silently cursing him, but he does as he's told. He doesn't know why he does that, just quietly does whatever Damen asks of him. After all, there's no one forcing him, no consequences if he just tells Damen to stick it. He wants to impress him though, and he doesn't know what that's about. He's never needed anyone's approval before, except maybe Auguste's. He hates it.

When he finishes, he steps off and grips hold of Damen's shoulder to steady his shaking legs. He's exhausted, sue him.

"You did so great, Laurent. You should be really proud of yourself. You've made a huge improvement."

Laurent nods, squeezing Damen's shoulder. He's too tired to fight him on it this time.

"Next week we'll do some spinning. I want to see you build up some more leg muscle."

"I hate you."

Damen laughs, loud and wonderful. Laurent hates how it makes him even weaker at the knees. "And so you should. If you liked me then I wouldn't be doing my job right."

* * *

"Oh you poor thing," Damen says as Laurent walks stiffly into the gym a couple of nights after they'd spent an hour on the bike.

Laurent scowls—he can't stand condescension. "You fucked up my legs."

"Lie down for me. I'll get you stretched out."

"Um, no thank you."

"You'll feel much better I promise. We don't have to do much else tonight."

Laurent sighs, but follows Damen over to the corner where the soft mats are. He lies down feeling extremely uncomfortable and stares up at where Damen is towering over him. Damen drops to his knees and shifts forward. 

"So what do you do for a living?" Damen asks as he arranges Laurent on the floor where he wants him.

Much to his embarrassment, Damen takes hold of one of his legs and folds it up against Laurent's chest, leaning over him to press his thigh as close to his chest as possible. Laurent looks up into his eyes, their faces close together, and notices for the first time just how long Damen's eyelashes are. He notices the specks of gold in his irises and sighs heavily. He's so screwed.

"I'm an accountant. Well sort of."

"Fresh out of college?"

"Yeah."

"Are you enjoying it?"

Laurent shakes his head. "I wanted to be a writer, but my father wouldn't let me. He said its too risky and there's not enough money in it."

"That seems a little unfair," Damen says with a frown.

Laurent shrugs his shoulders the best he can from his position on the floor. "It is what it is."

"Well for what it's worth, I'm sorry you're unhappy."

Laurent smiles a little at that and then winces as Damen brings his leg down and switches to the other one, which is apparently much tighter.

"Sorry," Damen says.

Laurent closes his eyes and breathes into it, relishes in the feeling of Damen on him, of his body heat and the musky smell of spicy body wash and sweat and  _male._ His eyes fly open when he feels the twitching in his pants. If the smirk on Damen's face is anything to go by, then he must have felt it too. Laurent flushes bright red.

"Feeling better?" Damen asks.

"Um, yes. Thank you," Laurent squeaks, undignified and mortified. 

"It's cool. Happens to the best of us."

"Oh, I'm sure," Laurent drawls unhappily. 

Damen leans up again, letting go of Laurent's leg so he's lying with his legs straight ahead of him again. He hopes his bulge isn't too noticeable. 

"Now I want you to sit up for me and spread your legs."

"Excuse me?"

"Sit with your legs out to the sides. I'm going to take your hands and pull your body forward so we can get those muscles on your inner thighs stretched."

"I don't hurt there though."

"It's good to get some flexibility, Laurent. We might as well whilst we're down here."

Laurent grumbles, but does as he's told. Damen takes his hands and grips them lightly. Laurent is amazed by how small his hands feel in Damen's and a little more than surprised by how much he likes it. He feels delicate, which is something he'd usually hate. Somehow though, with Damen it feels sort of nice. Perhaps because Damen would never laugh at him for it or consider him weak.

"Ouch, ouch!" Laurent exclaims as Damen tugs him forwards. "This hurts."

Damen laughs. "That's sort of the point."

"I don't know why I'm doing any of this. I feel worse and worse everyday."

"You're such a drama queen."

Laurent rolls his eyes, but can't help but return Damen's smile. 

* * *

“Stop that.”

Laurent looks down at where he’s swirling the wine in his glass, the dark liquid almost sloshing over the side, and then back at his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“The couch is new and white.”

A wicked smile spreads across Laurent’s face as he pretends to lose his balance, the wine swilling dangerously close to the rim of the glass.

Auguste leans forward and takes the drink easily from Laurent, glaring down at him with annoyance and a hint of affection. “Bored are we?”

Laurent slumps back into the comfort of the couch and breathes out heavily. “You have no idea.”

“Am I too dull for you now?”

“Yes.”

“I thought work was going well? You seemed to be enjoying it last time we spoke.”

“We haven’t spoken in weeks,” Laurent accuses.

After setting the glass down on the coffee table, Auguste sits closely beside Laurent and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You could have picked up the phone too.”

Laurent scowls at his big brother, but leans into his side anyway. “What have you been doing that has been so important?”

“Besides moving into this place? Well, there have been a couple of big, difficult cases at work. I’ve been watching over Nicaise a few nights a week because supposedly father couldn’t get a hold of someone else.” Auguste looks at Laurent pointedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Auguste rolls his eyes and squeezes Laurent’s shoulder affectionately. “I’m sure.”

“You like Nicaise more than me anyway. Stop complaining.”

“What’ve you been doing that’s kept you away from your phone?”

“I’ll have you know I am a very busy working man with just as many responsibilities as you now.”

“Yes, but what _else_?”

Laurent shakes his head, a slight flush coming to his cheeks.

“Laurent, have you _met someone?”_

“No!” Laurent clears his throat and says a little quieter, “No.”

“Then what?”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’ll tell father you’ll take Nicaise for the next two weeks.”

“I’ve been going to the gym, okay?”

Auguste laughs, his shoulders shaking. Laurent bristles.

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” Auguste says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Laurent’s temple. “I just thought you hated exercise.”

“I do.”

“Then why?”

“My boss recommended it to me. The gym has some deal where you get a free personal trainer for six weeks after signing up.”

“You have a personal trainer?”

“Yes.”

“And how is it?”

“Terrible.” Laurent sighs, curling into Auguste’s side.

“Then stop.”

“The people at work like working out. If I want them to respect me, I have to do it too.”

“That’s ridiculous, Laurent.”

“It’s just for a little while.”

“You’d never usually do something like this.”

“I really need this job, Auguste. It took me months to get it. I need the experience so that I can get something better.”

“Is the trainer good at least?”

Laurent rolls his eyes. “He likes to think so.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve finally started to look after yourself anyway. There was no way you could keep this physique forever, Laurent. Not with the way you indulge.”

Laurent tugs childishly on his brother’s hair, smiling spitefully when Auguste winces.

“I didn’t even realize you could run up to the end of the street.”

“I’ll have you know that Damen thinks I’m a natural runner,” Laurent says.

“Damen?”

“Yes. My trainer.”

“Is he cute?” Auguste asks, grunting when he gets an elbow to the stomach.

“He’s a brute.”

“You’re blushing. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“No.”

_“Laurent,”_

“No.”

“I know you’re having a hard time at the moment with work, but maybe some action would help.”

“Auguste, stop. Please.”

“I’m just saying, meeting someone and having fun with them would do you good.”

“It’s not like that and I’m fine.” Laurent scowls.

“Whatever you say.” 

* * *

“Come on, you can go faster than that,” Damen encourages beside him with a clap of his hands. “Just one more minute. Really push for me now.”

“Shut up,” Laurent snaps, his breath coming out short and harsh. “I’m running, not giving birth.”

Damen laughs, loud and deep and warm. “Okay. Just keep going. You’re doing great.”

Laurent is drenched in sweat and he’s sure his legs are going to give up on him any second now, but he manages to keep running, one foot being placed in front of the other. He pushes and pushes himself forward, his face twisting with discomfort, and almost cries with relief when Damen presses the cool down button. He looks up into the mirror in front of him, grimacing when he sees how red in the face he is, escaped strands of his hair sticking to his temples.

He steps off the treadmill and his legs buckle. He’s sure he’s about to hit the floor and make a fool of himself, but something infinitely worse happens. Damen steps forward and catches him in his overly massive arms, pulling him up against his chest.

“Let me go,” Laurent says as sternly as he can manage.

Damen laughs, but does as he’s told. “Sorry. You were going down there for a second.”

Laurent pulls out his hair tie and quickly redoes his hair, making sure all the loose strands are tied back again.

“You did great, man. I’m really proud of you,” Damen says.

Laurent looks up and smiles faintly at him. He _did_ do well—far better than he ever thought himself capable. “Figures you’d be happy you nearly killed me.”

“Drink up. Hydrate. You’ve got five minutes and then we’ll do some bench presses.”

“No. I’m not doing that again.”

Damen smirks. “Can’t take the heat?”

“Stop talking,” Laurent snaps, shoving at Damen’s chest. He’s only slightly embarrassed when Damen doesn’t even sway with the movement. “I’m paying you, not the other way around.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“Get a milkshake.”

“With me?”

“No, you big brute. Why would I want to go with you?”

Laurent sighs heavily when he sees the way Damen’s face drops at that. He hates himself for what he’s about to do, but he’s honestly not sure he can take the kicked puppy look on his trainer’s face.

“Fine. Come with me.”

“You really want me to?”

Laurent grinds his teeth together, “Yes.”

* * *

Laurent has had a couple of awful, awful days at work and it must show because as soon as he enters the gym Damen is frowning at him in concern.

"You okay, man?" he asks.

"Fine," Laurent says, clipped, because he can't trust his voice to come out steadily. He hasn't felt this close to breaking down since doing his finals at college during that one semester when he was taking five classes, and even then it wasn't as bad as this.

Damen nods and asks no more of it. That is until Laurent is running, his legs burning, with tears forming in his eyes. 

"Okay, that's enough," Damen says, turning off the treadmill.

"What?"

"Come on, let me take you out for coffee. You're not up for this today."

Laurent swallows thickly. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"You're my last customer of the day. I can leave early. Nikandros will close up."

Normally Laurent would decline the offer, but he can't stand the thought of going home alone. He can't go to Auguste's because he's out at some work gathering. He wants company. "Okay."

"Give me a minute and we can go. There's that diner on the corner."

 

"So what's up?" Damen asks when their coffee arrives. 

It's a nice little place with red booths and chrome tables. There's music playing softly in the background and there's the sound of quiet chatter and cutlery scraping plates. 

Laurent shrugs. "Just work."

"Stressed?"

"You could say that." Laurent snorts. 

"You want to talk about it?"

"It's just— There's this deadline at the end of the week and I have so much to do and I'm just not  _good enough_ at this. I never wanted to do it and I've always been a writer. Numbers aren't my thing. I have to do all these reports and I don't understand what I'm doing properly, and everyone else is too busy to help me. If I mess this up they could fire me, and I won't be able to get another job if that happens. It took me long enough to get this one and it won't look good in an interview if I have to explain that I only managed to hold down the job for a couple of months."

Damen nods and takes a sip of his coffee. "I know this probably doesn't help much, but I believe in you. I think you can do anything you put your mind to."

Laurent huffs loudly and rolls his eyes. "You're right, that doesn't help at all."

Damen smiles softly at him. "How can I take your mind off of it?"

"I don't think you can."

"How about you tell me about your writing. How did you get into it?"

"I was always reading books when I was younger. They made me so happy, you know? And I just— I had so many ideas in my head and I thought, what if writing my stories could make someone else as happy as other people's stories made me? Auguste, my brother, used to love reading the things I wrote and it made me feel good."

"Do you still write now?"

"I barely have the time."

"Well when you find the time to start again, I'd really love to read some of it."

"You don't seem like the type who reads." Laurent smiles.

"What because I spend all day in a gym?"

"Exactly. Jocks don't read."

Damen rolls his eyes. "Snob."

Laurent shrugs. "I'm just saying what I've seen."

"I never used to read. My classmates used to make fun of me when we did group reading because I was so slow and messed up on some of the words. I guess I hated it after that. But then I got to college and my girlfriend read a lot. She'd always be recommending me books, so I started again."

"Kids can be assholes."

Damen snorts. "They sure can."

"What's your favourite book?"

"I like  _Motherless Brooklyn_ and  _To Kill a Mockingbird._ I'm also a pretty big fan of the Dan Brown books."

"Harper Lee. I'm impressed."

Damen looks down at his coffee at that and though it's faint, Laurent swears he sees a slight blush colouring his cheeks.

"So, are you still seeing your girlfriend?" Laurent asks with a small clearing of his throat.

"No, she slept with my brother." Damen shrugs.

Laurent stares at him open mouthed for a moment and then leans over to place his hand on Damen's forearm. Damen looks up at him then with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," Laurent says. 

"It's no big deal. It happened a long time ago now."

"Still, they hurt you."

"Sometimes people are cruel. That's just life."

Laurent nods. "Are you with someone now?"

"No. I dated a couple of people, but it never really worked out. You?"

"I don't do relationships," he says with a shake of his head.

Damon's face drops impossibly further at that, but he tries to mask it. A little flutter of hope builds in Laurent's gut.

"Why not?"

"I'm not very good at them. People tend to grow bored with me. I've been called a cast iron bitch on more than one occasion, and with good reason."

"You shouldn't believe them, Laurent."

Laurent chuckles. "It's true. I'm not a warm person, Damen. I'm cold and I'm often cruel."

"Maybe, at times. But you're also funny and clever and you're determined. You've never given up once in training, even when I know you wanted to."

"You don't have to try to make me feel better."

"I'm not. I'm telling you because you deserve to hear it. You're not a bad person, Laurent, and anyone would be lucky to have you."

* * *

"So, what's been up with you?" Jord asks.

They're at a bar downtown having not met up in weeks. Laurent feels a little guilty for the fact he hasn't contacted the only friend he has for so long, but he's been so busy with work and the gym that he just forgot. It happens sometimes. Laurent's always been better at being alone.

"What do you mean?"

"What have you been up to?"

"Just work mostly."

"You liking it?"

Laurent shakes his head. Everyone keeps asking him that and it gets worse to talk about every time. 

"Sorry, man. I know it's not what you wanted to do."

"How about you? Are you liking your job at the school?"

"Yeah it's great."

"And, uh, the baby? She's doing well?"

"Oh yes. Would you like to see a picture?"

Laurent really doesn't care, but he does care about Jord, so he says yes anyway. The photo is of Aimeric—his now husband—and the baby girl. She is sweet, but Laurent doesn't really see the appeal. He smiles at Jord and says, "She's beautiful." He's a decent human being after all.

Jord nods, staring at the photo for a moment longer and then pockets his phone.

"So, is there anyone new in your life?" he asks Laurent.

"No, not really."

Jord smiles sadly at him. Laurent hates it.

"I'm fine. Honestly."

"I just wish you could find someone like I have. But I know, I know. You like being alone."

"I do," Laurent says. He doesn't know why, but for the first time ever, it feels like a lie.

Jord leaves for the bathroom and Laurent looks lazily around the small establishment. He has to do a double take, but yes, it's definitely Damen sat in the corner with Nikandros and a couple of other men Laurent recognises from the gym. Damen is staring straight back at him and gives a small wave. Laurent smiles and then turns back to the bar. He only has to wait a handful of seconds before Damen is at his side with the pretense of ordering another round for his friends.

"Hello, Laurent."

"Hello."

"I didn't think I'd see you here."

"Why not?"

Damen laughs with a shake of his head. "Just didn't realise you were stalking me, that's all."

Laurent narrows his eyes at him. "You wish I was that interested."

Damen looks at him for a long time, his eyes fixed on Laurent's, and then says lowly, "Maybe I do."

All the breath leaves Laurent's lungs at that and he finds himself gaping a little at him. 

"I'll see you later, Laurent," he says, and with that he leaves with his tray of drinks back over to his table.

"Who was that?" Jord asks, sliding back onto his stall.

"No one."

"Come on. Who was it?"

"My personal trainer."

"You're going to the gym?"

Laurent rolls his eyes. "Why is everyone so surprised?"

"Because you're the bookish type and you never get off your ass unless you really have to."

"That's a lie. I'm not lazy."

"I didn't say you were lazy. You've just never been a fan of anything including exercise. You work hard, but you hate exercise."

"Well, I'm coming round to it I guess."

"That's good. Is it making you feel better?"

"No. I hurt all the time."

"I'm sure you're over exaggerating." Jord laughs.

"I'd like to see you doing it."

"I run everyday, Laurent. I have done for years."

"Whatever," Laurent grumbles.

Feeling eyes on his back, Laurent looks over his shoulder and meets Damen's gaze. He gives a small smile and then ducks his head, turning back to the bar.

"You can go and talk to him. I don't mind. I should be getting back to Aimeric and the baby anyway."

Laurent nods his head. "Okay."

Jord downs the rest of his drink and with a pat on Laurent's shoulder he leaves. Laurent counts in his head and two minutes later Damen slides onto the stall that Jord had just vacated.

"Take me home," Laurent whispers.

"W-what?" Damen stutters.

"You heard me."

Laurent turns to look at him and watches his throat bob as he swallows thickly. "Are you drunk?"

"I don't drink," Laurent says.

"You want—"

"Yes."

Damen leans over slightly and reaches up with one hand to cup Laurent's face. "Are you sure?"

"It's about the only thing in my life I am sure of right now."

Damen beams. There's really no other way of putting it. Then, slowly as if he's giving Laurent the chance to change his mind, Damen leans in. Their lips brush and Laurent gasps at the whisper of a kiss. He presses forward with an enthusiasm that surprises even him, parting his lips and groaning when Damen's tongue flicks at the underneath of his top lip.

"Okay, lets go," Damen murmurs against Laurent's mouth.

"Yes. Now," Laurent replies excitedly. 

"Mine or yours?"

"Yours. My place is a dive."

"Okay."

Since he doesn't drink, Laurent drives them. Damen slides his hand up Laurent's leg, massaging at the sore muscle on his inner thigh until Laurent gasps and has to push him away. Damen gives him directions, but struggles to watch the road to see where they are because he's too busy staring at Laurent's face. Laurent flushes under the attention. 

The moment they get inside Damen's apartment, Damen's got Laurent pressed up against the wall and is pressing hot, scorching kisses down the column of his neck. Laurent's eyes fall closed and he moans Damen's name, gripping tightly at his shoulders to pull him closer. 

"What do you want?" Damen asks in between presses of his lips.

"Everything," Laurent pants.

Damen drops to his knees and scrambles at the button of Laurent's jeans, whooping triumphantly when he finally gets it undone and can pull his pants and underwear down around his knees. Laurent gasps and grasps hold of Damen's hair, his head knocking back against the wall as Damen envelopes his cock into his mouth, swallowing him down almost all the way. Laurent tugs on his hair lightly, not guiding him, just giving himself something to anchor him. Damen pulls back and swirls his tongue around the head, licking the precome from the tip. Laurent gives out a blissful cry and rocks his hips forward. He's just about to apologise, but Damen groans as he folds his mouth over him again and tugs on Laurent's hips until Laurent starts to fuck his mouth. He sets a slow and steady rhythm, moaning loudly into the silence of the apartment that he hasn't even seen yet. It's dark and they haven't even made it past the entrance hall. Damen's hands slip around Laurent's hips until they're gripping his ass, pulling the cheeks apart so he can run a finger along the crease of his ass. He starts rubbing at his hole to the same rhythm of the thrusts of Laurent's hips. Laurent tries to hold back, he really does, but then Damen groans around his cock and the vibrations are just too much. His hips buck uncontrollably as he shoots off into the back of Damen's throat, a bitten off scream falling from his mouth. Damen rubs his tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock, milking him for all he's worth until it's finally too much and Laurent has to push him back.

"Damen," he gasps, tugging on his hair.

Damen gets to his feet and presses their chests together, their lips meeting in another hungry kiss. Laurent can taste himself on Damen's tongue, and even though it should be disgusting, Laurent just finds himself getting more turned on. He can feel Damen's hardness pressing against his hip and reaches down to palm him through his jeans.

"Fuck me," Laurent says.

"Are you sure?"

Laurent nods and presses a series of kisses along Damen's jaw until he can nip and tug at his earlobe. He whispers a deep, "I want you inside me."

Damen shudders and bends down to pull Laurent's jeans and boxers fully off. Then he lifts Laurent into his arms and carries him down the hallway. 

* * *

When Laurent comes hobbling slightly into the gym the next day, Damen is working with a different customer. Laurent can see the way he's been watching him in the reflection in the mirror, his shoulders shaking in silent mirth.

Laurent mimics a slitting of his throat and sticks his tongue out.

"Looks like someone didn't stretch properly," Nikandros says.

"Or just had a killer work out."

"Damen work you hard?"

"Oh you have no idea how hard," Laurent says with a smirk.

* * *

"Have you told Nikandros?" Damen asks over dinner the following night.

"No. Why?" Laurent says innocently.

Damen narrows his eyes at him. "He asked if I'd finally got my finger out and asked you out."

"Well, technically you haven't."

"Do you want me to?"

Laurent shrugs. "Depends if you want a cast iron bitch for a boyfriend."

"Stop saying that. I hate it when you say that."

Laurent puts his plate on the coffee table and then takes Damen's and does the same. He climbs into Damen's lap and presses their foreheads together. "I like that you care."

Damen tips his head and presses their lips together lightly. "How could I not?"

Laurent smiles and ducks his head until he can tuck it beneath Damen's chin. "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve everything."

* * *

Damen holds Laurent’s hips and together they squat, Damen watching carefully to make sure Laurent isn’t leaning too far forward. They move in sync for a couple of reps and then Damen steps back to watch.

“ _Ahh_ , push it!” Nikandros sings as he walks past. “Push it real good.”

Laurent turns to scowl over his shoulder, his cheeks flaming. He looks up at Damen and rolls his eyes when he notices the big brown eyes fixed on his backside. “Stop staring.”

“I’m checking your form.” Damen grins.

“I’m doing squats, Damen. They’re not exactly difficult.”

“They can be quite challenging for some people.”

“I’m sure.”

“Mm.”

“Damen! Eyes! Up! Here!”

* * *

His six weeks are up, but Laurent doesn't stop going to the gym. There may be a reason for that. Well, one to be exact. It has nothing to do with his boyfriend though. No, not one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://enochianess.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos or comments!


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